5 firemen stood in my airspace today. I made sure to nose-breathe. I still had asparagus on my breath from my hastily abandoned dinner.
5 firemen stood in my kitchen today. The scent of crock-pot beans lingered in the air. I marveled at all their tools. Then I noticed all the medical equipment they brought in. wink.
5 firemen stood next to me today. Several times I slowly shut my eyes while I inhaled their musky "hey-baby-i-just-put-out-a-fire-and-saved-a-cat" scent. I think I heard Marvin Gaye in the background.
5 firemen stood next to Clint today. But Clint's "i-have-food-lodged-in-my-throat-why-does-jaylee-look-like-she's-in-a-febreeze-commercial?" choking noise managed to ruin the moment.
Oh yeah. Clint choked on dinner tonight. Chicken.
Not to worry. He was never in any real danger. His midget esophagus hasn't grown since he was 5 (my expert opinion), and he's had a few similar episodes in the past. This one was the worst and he endured about 30 minutes of severely constricted breathing. While the 5 fireman stared at Clint, trying to assess their course of action, I stared at the 5 fireman.
As soon as the decision was made to transport him to the hospital, Clint's body started working again. Darn. No EMTs. Just as well. They'd have been women with my luck.
Fortunately, Clint's still with us.
But the firemen aren't.
Firemen work the same shift every week, right? 'Cuz I really liked the older chap with the sandy blonde hair.
Did I just pour gasoline all over my house and light a match? How clumsy.
Sorry to offend those with small esophagi, those who have burned their house down, and midgets. If you happen to know any firemen, more specifically the firemen that were at my house today, or any that are in the above picture, please give them my thanks. And my phone number.